


Holidays with the wolves

by Kuro_Ko



Series: Werewives [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gay Panic, Mention of Racism, They're werewives, Tragedy of Duscur, We just love Derdriu, Werewolves, What do you mean this isn't therapy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28276017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuro_Ko/pseuds/Kuro_Ko
Summary: The Ethereal Moon has arrived and with it a new Saint Cichol’s day celebration. As a new clan and family, Hilda, Marianne, Ingrid and Dorothea prepare themselves to celebrate holidays together for the first time and learn more about each other in the process.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault & Hilda Valentine Goneril, Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Marianne von Edmund, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Series: Werewives [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072379
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Holidays with the wolves

Winter, even in Derdriu, could be harsh when one wasn’t used to them. Even more so when one had grown up in the warmer south of the continent, in the mild winter of Enbarr. Ingrid, looking at her girlfriend, grimaced and caught her gloved hand to shove it in her pocket. Dorothea smiled at her but she couldn’t hide her shivers from Ingrid.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back? It is _especially_ cold today…” She asked, white puff of breath escaping from her lips as she spoke.

“No, we can’t. Today is the only day I can get something for Hilda without her noticing... “ Dorothea tugged Ingrid from their joined hands, her voice muffled by the heavy scarf she was wearing. “I’m not letting her win this year’s gift competition again.”

“ _Again_?” They went through a group of people that had decided to use the whole sidewalk as their chatting room. Ingrid and Dorothea had developed enough sync between them to avoid people without needing to let go of each other.

“You should’ve seen last year! She just made this collar out of thin air when I wasn’t looking and… it’s gorgeous. Hilda is really talented and I can’t believe I’m complaining about that!” Dorothea groaned, eyeing the windows in the stores, not even sure of what she hoped to find there.

“Don’t you think that we can find something in Goneril she’d like?” They were to leave in a couple of days to Hilda’s parents house, the winter festivities almost upon them and the thick of winter biting at their fingers and ears.

Or making Dorothea miserable and Ingrid slightly annoyed.

“No offense to the Goneril state, but no. Only Enbarr could offer more options than Derdriu,” Dorothea said, clenching her jaw to keep her teeth from clattering. “It needs to be now or else I won’t find anything to impress her…”

Ingrid looked at her again, then at the windows of the stores heavily decorated in green, and back again to her girlfriend, her gorgeous eyebrows knit together and her usually cheerful mouth closed in a displeased line. Ingrid looked at her and felt her heart soaring once more, before shaking her head and shrugging.

“Of course, let’s keep looking, there must be something here for her, right?” She said, her green eyes back at the store where handkerchiefs were sold at a ridiculous price. Dorothea tugged her again, with that strength that only a werewolf could have, and kissed her soundly in the cheek.

“You are a sun, did you know that?” She joked, winking at her and smiling when Ingrid’s blush took a hold of her cheeks. Even cold and shivering Dorothea had it.

She would always have it.

“I…” Oh, yes, when Ingrid was at loss of words Dorothea knew that she had it.

“Besides, after we’re finished, can I treat you to a cup of hot wine and cinnamon cookies? You aren’t driving today…” Another well timed wink and Ingrid’s blush now reached her ears. Understanding crossed through her eyes quickly, as thunder did before the storm.

“Oh.”

* * *

“Hilda, why are you packing _that_ in my suitcase?” Marianne cupped the warm mug with hot tea she had been drinking as she watched her girlfriend packing her suitcase. Hilda had been chatting in high spirits as she prepared her own pink suitcase. It was a common situation, something they had done before a couple of times.

Until she grabbed a horrifying green suit and proceeded to put it in her luggage.

“It’s Claude’s, I need it for a surprise and nobody would think of going through your stuff!” Hilda retorted, still fumbling with whatever that green suit was, as she rearranged Marianne’s neat clothes to fit it in,“ Dorothea will sniff it right away in my suitcase, but she would never go through your bag and Ingrid usually respects other people's privacy!” Even when she was wearing her dark green sweater, Marianne could see Hilda’s muscles popping and showing through the fabric as she closed the lid of the suitcase once more.

She decided to have a sip of her drink, it was hot enough to burn her tongue.

“There we go, nobody will know… this year’s competition is mine!” Hilda, hands in her hips, turned around and smiled brightly at her. “Mari, dear, this will be great! I can’t wait to show you around the forest near the house and the little village! There are even balconies in some of the bedrooms for Ingrid to jump off!”

“Hilda!”

“You’re right, maybe I should tell Dorothea to pick the one without a balcony…” Marianne couldn’t help but giggle, leaving the mug on the table behind her to cover her face.

“Or maybe Dorothea prefers it that way, for nostalgia's sake…” Hilda walked up to her, holding her hands with care and smiling, delighted to see Marianne’s giggling.

“Stop, stop!” Marianne asked, hiding now her face in her shoulder as she tried to keep her laugh at bay, “poor Ingrid won’t survive if we remind her again!”

“Fair, I do like her enough to keep her alive. She’s part of the clan after all,” Hilda ran her thumbs on Marianne’s hands as she waited for her girlfriend to stop laughing, warmth and tickles flooding her chest. Even sitting, Hilda was short enough for Marianne to look at her eyes without tilting her head much. Instead, she tugged Hilda closer and hugged her, hiding her face in the crook of her breasts and muffled her laughter there. Hilda was quick to hug her back, enjoying the proximity of her girlfriend, the warmth and the comfort her presence offered her.

Marianne was a drug to Hilda, and even as time passed and months found their way into their lives, her heart would rush and her smile brighten when Hilda spotted Marianne.

“You haven’t told me about this competition...” Marianne looked at her, her chin now in the crook of her breasts and Hilda would’ve tried something very different from talking if they weren’t to go for dinner with their friends soon.

“Oh, it’s just a friendly gifting competition we have with Dorothea for Saint Cichol’s day,” Hilda kissed her forehead before continuing, “by the end of Cichol’s day whoever gave the other one the best gift or pulled the greatest surprise wins!”

“Wins what?” Marianne crooked an eyebrow, unsure how a festivity that was supposed to celebrate family and gathering together when times were tough could fit a competition.

“The title of the most creative person of the family for the following year!” Hilda raised her right hand in a fist, keeping her left arm around her girlfriend. “I have won twice in a row and I pretend to extend my winning streak this year too!” She proclaimed, looking into the horizon in what would’ve been a very heroic pose if it wasn’t that her horizon was a white wall. Marianne smiled and shook her head.

“I thought you only put work into something if it was about me,” she joked, giggling for a second until Hilda scooped her in her arms. Marianne could only yelp and hug Hilda’s neck.

“Oh, I mostly put work into something if it’s about you. But this is worth the trouble!” Hilda smiled, fighting the urge to start spinning Marianne around.

“Hilda!” If Marianne wanted to say something more, she couldn’t, her voice was lost to her laughing as Hilda waltzed with her in her arms, the world outside just their canvas for them to paint their future as they saw fit.

Just the stage for them to enjoy some of the most important festivities of the year together for the first time.

* * *

There were different ways to show affection as there were different kinds of affections. Ingrid knew that much.

She’d make a cup of hot tea for Marianne the days she woke up late after a long shift at the hospital.

She’d let Hilda try her new and still experimental ornaments on her, exploring a new aesthetic Hilda was just starting to discover now.

She’d drive Dorothea around, listening to her lines over and over and answering them the best of her ability with a script in her hands and a working blush in her cheeks.

There were different ways to show love.

And driving her girlfriend and friends could be as well one of her favorites.

The road was once more empty as she made her way through so early in the morning that not even the sun was up. Hilda and Dorothea slept on the back, something about werewolves needing more sleep to function properly.

Ingrid thought sometimes that they used the werewolf excuse a bit more than they should. She could still forgive them. Driving in silence wasn’t a problem.

Or at least it wasn’t when Marianne was in the passenger seat, going through playlists and whispering words every now and then. Driving seemed like more of a human activity, and Ingrid still had fresh in her memory a pack of wolves running next to her car, covered in mud and blood.

No, this was better, this was easy, this was known.

Her knuckles were suddenly white as she clenched the steering wheel.

“Ingrid, is everything alright?” Marianne was quick to notice the change in her mood, even before Ingrid herself. She thought for a moment to dismiss her worries, to tell her she was fine and that it was just too early even for them. Yet again, Ingrid had learned something about her these months, she could always rely on Mari.

Always.

“I think I’m nervous...” she said, more doubtful than certain, more like a question than like an answer. Marianne smiled and shook her head slightly.

“You think?”

“Well… I don’t know why I should be.” Ingrid shrugged as she said that, her eyes on the road, her right and left hand in the steering wheel.

“We are going to visit our girlfriends’ parents, that 's a powerful motive, don’t you think?” Ingrid knew that was rational, but she already had met Holst under the worst circumstances.

“They are your girlfriend’s parents, I can deflect that question,” Ingrid joked, feeling how the knot that had taken a hold in her belly started to loosen.

“Oh, but Ingrid, what if they see you jumping from a balcony this time from the room you share with Dorothea? That would be something we would all remember”

“Mari! That’s a low blow, do you want me to crash the car so we don’t remember that little incident anymore?” Despite everything, she took the next curve with the utmost care.

She was driving the people she loved the most, after all.

Marianne chuckled and looked at her, the question still there in her eyes, kind and patient, yet present. Ingrid sighed well aware she needed that and looked into herself, trying to understand what her feelings were and why she felt them. The rear mirror shone as a car sped next to them, Ingrid kept her right and saw it go, the red lights of its trunk disappearing into the morning.

“I’m not sure… I guess...” She bit the tip of her tongue as she thought the next words carefully. Her eyes went to the rear mirror once more and checked on the sleeping women behind them, Dorothea had the same peaceful, resting face she had when her sleep was deep and her breathing calm. “I guess I’m just worried about meeting more werewolves.”

Ingrid couldn’t help but feel wrong and guilty about it. Marianne hummed, her eyes back to the road as she processed the information and thought of a proper answer.

“This is because of Dorothea’s father?”

“Yes, I suppose… I still see them running behind Hilda and Holst… I guess I worry too much.”

“I think you do, yes… but I see why you do it.”

“Look, I’m just worried I’ll say something stupid or offensive or I’ll snap because all I can see are a group of idiots kidnapping our loved ones…” Ingrid hands were once more clenching the steering wheel hard. Marianne looked at her and a single spark of realization crossed her eyes.

“This is about what you told me, about Dedue and Duscur?” She asked, sure of what the answer was. Ingrid took a couple of seconds before nodding. Marianne closed her eyes and caught the sigh in her throat.

Ingrid wasn’t the same person she was before, Marianne knew that.

She had to convince Ingrid of it, however.

“It’s silly, it’s going to be fine, I know. I just worry too much…”

“Ingrid, you aren’t the same person that you were.”

“Am I not, though? Then why do I still get afraid and scared of the things I can’t control? I…” The night wasn’t as black now, sunrise coming slow but steady. “It’s ok, it’ll be ok.”

“Ingrid...” There was a tear in Marianne’s voice, the single note of pain she knew Ingrid felt.

“You know the drill, just knock me unconscious if anything happens,” Ingrid tried to joke, there was no humor in her voice, however.

“I am not Felix, I don’t think I could.”

“Oh, just ask Hilda to throw something at me.”

“And then Dorothea would wrestle her again…”

“What, don’t you think your girlfriend can take on mine? Not that I’d care that much, I’d be unconscious…” Ingrid cracked a smile and Marianne was giggling once more. The two werewolves sleeping soundly and deep in the back seat.

There were many memories still to share. Little things that time would make surface and expose.

There weren’t secrets to unveil, just memories to expose.

Marianne knew that time would be the answer.

* * *

Holst hoisted four suitcases in his arms as if he was picking up the morning newspaper. His smile was so bright that he would have melted the snow if he wanted.

He was a familiar sight, one that gave Marianne solace and respite.

Somehow, he was able to engulf her in a hug still balancing the suitcases he wouldn’t let anybody else carry.

“Sister! It’s so nice to see you again!” Marianne could barely breathe in his arms, but she hugged him nonetheless and patted his back, trying to convey in gestures what she couldn’t in words.

“Yeah, yeah, bro, let her go or I’ll have to wrestle her out of your arms!” Hilda patted his shoulder and opened her arms, getting the hug she was looking for quickly, Holst had the mind to not crush them both at the same time. Ingrid was looking around, an appreciative look in her eyes as she turned taking in the landscape and the Goneril State in front of them. It was breathtaking scenery, with the mountains around them and the lonely old house almost hidden in the landscape on top of a rolling hill. The small villa they had driven through was behind them, just another part of the landscape now. She turned around once more before Dorothea grabbed her hand and smiled at her.

“Do you like it?” Her words were clear and her voice beautiful as always, it seemed as if sleeping on the back of a car did nothing to diminish her natural grace and demeanor.

“It’s lovely, I didn’t know the mountains in this region were so green…” Ingrid mussed, her eyes still lost in the green peaks around them, the lack of deep snow on them despite winter was a curiosity for her.

“Oh, this weather is just nicer than the cold winters in Derdriu, don’t you think?” Dorothea tugged her joined hands, starting a slow walk behind Holst, Hilda and Marianne, who seemed to be in a little banter of their own.

“You should never visit Fhirdiad if it isn’t summer, we barely get any sun at all during the worst of winter.” Ingrid’s hands were warm, she had been an endless source of warmth and comfort for Dorothea through the worst nights when cold was too much to bear. Ingrid had joked about the woman being a bit too sensitive to the cold for somebody who was supernatural, but had wrapped herself around Dorothea and had slept soundly next to her. Ingrid had given her warmth and love endlessly, no conditions and no questions asked.

Dorothea smiled and Ingrid shivered, she recognized that smile.

“Oh, but if I went you’d keep me warm, right?” Dorothea asked, managing her voice and fluttering her eyelashes just the right way for Ingrid to blush and clear her throat.

“Wel… Y- Yes, of course,” she struggled to say, eyeing quickly their friends that were on the wide steps to enter the house. Ingrid thought of adding something more, but kept her last appreciations to herself.

She couldn’t compete with Dorothea when it came to words.

Ingrid, however, had other tricks under her sleeve.

“Come on now! Mom and dad are in the yard, morning exercises, you know,” Holst had managed to open the front door, leading them inside with a smile. Hilda and Dorothea guided their girlfriends inside, into a world colored by the old, polished wood on the floor, the light and yet vivid colors on the walls, ornaments placed with care and an eye keen to details.

The house, old and big, had a personality of its own they could feel by simple stepping in it.

“Your old rooms haven’t been used these last months, they should be fine. I’ll leave the suitcases there, you go on and say hello” Holst pointed with his chin toward the main hallway, Hilda and Dorothea could smell the breeze coming from it, rich with the scent of the earth and the green of the garden the family kept in pristine condition. Hilda made her way through, her hand gently grasping Marianne’s, nothing had changed since the last time she had been there, the house seemed the same, unmovable by time or fate.

Yet they had changed.

Hilda found the contrast jarring, as she walked the house where she had been something she wasn’t anymore. The same colors, the same patterns, yet she was different. She tried to shrug it off with a big smile and an ample gesture to open the back door and show their guests what had to be the best view from the house and any of the hills around.

Her great great great great fathers had found the spot centuries ago, or something like that. Hilda didn’t care much about it, she did however liked the view.

She liked it more when she turned to see Marianne’s face as she took in the landscape and saw how her eyes widened and her smile brightened.

Yes, that was a view Hilda would pay to look at everyday of her life.

“Ta-da! Welcome to the traditional Goneril clan territory!” The mighty clan that controlled most of the Leicester nation, a long and proud tradition of werewolves concentrated in a single place, the mansion and stronghold from where they had raised and held an undisputed control over the country.

The green of the statues made out of bushes was rich and profound, cut in delicate shapes that resemble all kinds of animals. The roads were clean and neat, small lamps on the ground that at night would tell exactly where to go and the roads to follow from and to the house. Ingrid walked around the well kept yard, a maze for human eyes but a layout that was easy for wolves to navigate, each corridor a freeway for the wind to carry information to their sensitive noses. She was beyond surprised in her life regarding that topic anymore, her mind registered the information without a fuzz, categorizing it and organizing it quietly in the back of her brain if she ever needed it.

No, that wasn’t what had caught her attention.

It was rather the whiplash of old memories that looked similar to the yard. Her strides, unwavering, carried her through the bushes and the yellow bricks of the roads, in her eyes she saw the decay of old statues where the wires that composed the very skeleton of their existence appeared through the leaves as broken bones and the roads were covered in dirt and gravel that had never been quite right.

Not since she could remember, at least.

The wind carried the breath of the mountains to her and it made her mind snap back to reality. It wasn’t the same mountains, it wasn’t the same yard.

It wasn’t the same house.

It wasn’t the same life.

“... and, of course, once Hilda could, she made her parents change them,” Dorothea’s voice in her ears made her look back at her girlfriend, who had been talking to the humans as they walked toward the center of the maze, never doubting. Ingrid smiled, grateful that her little spacing out wasn’t noticed by any of them. Marianne had kept the conversation going by asking the right questions in the right silences.

Ingrid’s silence could be very well blamed to her taking in the scenery instead of the dark memories that lurked in every corner of her mind, waiting for the right moment to rise up and remind her of what they were and how close they would always be to her heart.

“They were hideous and it took them long enough. Even Holst thought they weren’t ‘that great’,” Hilda had Marianne’s hand in hers, still she looked indignant at the whole situation. “It’s so much better looking now and...” She stopped, tilting her face upwards and closing her eyes for a moment. Marianne and Ingrid could recognize that face anywhere. She had caught something in the wind and needed an extra second to process it.

Now that they were being open and honest about their nature, they tended to do that.

“Yes, they are here, yes, your mother changed her perfume,” Dorothea chuckled, tugging Ingrid’s hand and moving them forward. Despite the memories she would never be free of, Ingrid was happy. She was happy to see Dorothea content, she was happy to be out of the city at least for a couple of days.

She was happy that in those days it wasn’t just Marianne and her anymore.

Hilda opened her mouth to retort, but her words died before being born, when they took a right and were at the center of the maze and a couple of wolves seemed to be having fun just by admiring the green sculpture at the center, the biggest of them all for what they had seen so far.

“Mom, dad!” Hilda let go of Marianne and opened her arms to receive two heavy, happy and big wolves in her tiny human frame. Marianne sidestepped quickly as she saw them running toward her girlfriend. A wise decision, they clashed against Hilda’s and threw her to the ground in a mix of giggles and a chorus of whimpers and noises that weren’t human. Dorothea hid her face behind one of her hands, but she was smiling as well.

It would be her turn soon enough.

A wolf jumped on top of her and she had half a mind to let go of Ingrid before her adoptive father hit her with the bulk of his body.

She didn’t let go on time.

The three of them fell in a tangle of limbs and Ingrid rolled in the ground trying to tell up and down apart before a wagging tail hit her in the face.

“No, dad, no! Don’t you turn back here!” Dorothea had, somehow, managed to grab the wolf and embraced him in a tight hug, both to say hello and to keep him pinned. “You don’t even have your clothes on!” She wanted to be mad, but she could only laugh as the man, still in her arms, still as a wolf, wiggled around and barked happily.

Ingrid got up and dusted her pants and shirt. One of her ribbons had come undone.

“Uh…” She couldn’t word her thoughts, maybe because they weren’t coherent enough to be worded. Marianne was next to her in a second, always quick to assist when Ingrid didn't know how to express herself or her emotions.

“Let us give them a minute, I suppose this is the equal for them to hug,” she said, smiling hard by seeing the scene in front of them.

“Yes, I suppose… remember that time Hilda jumped at you and turned half way?” Ingrid chuckled at the memory, wondering when she had grown used to so many of these shenanigans.

“When I had to do an extra shift? I was so tired I didn’t even see her…” Marianne giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “I almost passed out, she was so guilty she had to carry me back to my bed after that.”

“Don’t say out loud! Ugh, Mari! Now they will want to know everything about it…” Hilda, her hair disheveled by then and her clothes with big paw prints on them, looked at her girlfriend mortified as her wolf mother eyed them with a mischievous glint on her eyes that couldn’t ever be mistaken.

“Well, Hilda darling, I have told you you should be a bit more careful with our sweet Marianne,” Dorothea joined the banter with a wink and setting the wolf on the ground, their father nodded and even as a wolf they could read his expression clearly.

Maybe they were just getting used to it.

“Say whatever you want, Dorothea, but watch out, our rooms have balconies, don’t you remember?” Hilda pointed out behind her with her thumb, at the house with several flights and balconies in the rooms that allowed all visitors and inhabitants to watch the sunset from the mountains and the wonderful garden the family had taken care of for generations.

Dorothea took the jest in her stride, simply flicking her hair and smiling, Ingrid, behind her and next to Marianne looked at the house and got pale.

The group started laughing in good spirits.

The rooms had balconies.

Like her old room back at home.

Back at the house that wasn’t her home anymore.

Like the old country that saw the worst of her and would always remember who she really was at the bottom of her heart.

* * *

It had to be a dream.

Ingrid had another bite of the generous plate in front of her and decided that, even if it was a dream, she wasn’t going to be the one to question it.

Another plate was put on the table for them to share and Ingrid was more than sure that she wasn’t the one to question reality or fantasy anymore.

Marianne, as the only being in the table with an appetite that wasn’t out of the ordinary, watched them eat in disbelief. She should have been used to it by now, she mussed. After presentations following human protocoles had been made, meaning they had to go back to the house, wait for Hilda and Dorothea’s parents to change back and dress properly and then go out again to walk around the enormous garden, they had been shown their rooms and called for an early lunch.

Breakfast had been coffee and some cookies they had shared in the car when Ingrid called for them after sunrise.

It was logical that they were hungry.

Still, Marianne couldn’t quite believe her eyes as she cut a portion of meat in her plate.

The assertion of plates in the table was enough to make her dizzy, there were a wide variety of meat, from fowl, pork, fish, beef, to the opposite with colorful vegetables, cereals, even a curious plate made out of fruit and fish that seemed to be part of the Brigid cuisine she hadn’t braved herself enough to try yet.

It was enough to feed them for days.

Or it would’ve been enough to feed them for days if it wasn’t for the simple fact that five of them weren’t humans and the other human wasn’t normal either.

It was frightening.

Marianne used a napkin to clean the corner of her mouth before taking a sip of water, enough time for Hilda and Dorothea to finish one of the big plates on the table and move onto the next one.

That was the reason why she didn’t look at their grocery bill anymore.

“Mari, this is amazing, you have to try it!” Ingrid offered her the Brigid dish and she smiled politely as she took a small portion out of it. She saw Hilda’s mother take a generous bite out of it, taking it from Ingrid’s hands with a word of gratitude. Erica smiled in delight, her features so similar to her daughter and yet different. Marianne had a tiny bite and she took her moment to taste it.

It was an acquired taste.

Or at least to her, Ingrid was getting a second serving of it with such a contempt happy face she couldn’t but smile as well. It had been so different from their last holidays, when it was only them, or sometimes Claude and Mercedes and Annie.

Marianne still remembered fondly the year Sylvain and Felix had visited, Ingrid had gotten at least a few more white hairs after those days, but it had been warm and gentle, a beacon of light in a routine that more often than not seemed to be grey and rigid and cold.

Somehow, with all their eccentricities and changes, all their individualities and love combined, Hilda and Dorothea had become a crucial part of Marianne’s life.

A haven for her to take shelter when the storm of life was just too much to weather with a strong facade and a howling heart in her chest.

She swallowed the bite and decided that she wouldn’t go for another serving of that specific dish. Maybe another day she’d try again.

The wolves around laughed and ate making each other company, in the old and yet somewhat new familiarity they shared. In that atmosphere of people that have lived so much time together and yet still enjoyed and longed for each other's presence that was hard to come by.

So different from the long winters back in Edmund when her time was grim and her future black.

Marianne tried a different dish, one Holst and Kerr seemed to enjoy over everything else.

It tasted differently, it tasted as nothing she had ever tried before.

Maybe, that was the taste food had when it was shared in a home.

Maybe that was home felt like.

She longed for it.

She longed for it in her own terms, by her own laws.

* * *

Dorothea moved around the old bedroom she used to call hers with ease. Nothing had changed that much, her adoptive parents had decided to keep the old room as it was and only the things she had taken with her to Enbarr first and then Derdriu were missing.

It was the very things that gave the room its soul, and now even if she was able to move with ease, she felt as if it wasn’t hers anymore. She looked as Ingrid took their suitcases and put them in the double bed that they were to share that night and the following nights.

It wasn’t a long stay, barely enough to enjoy the festivities and get back in time to clock for work, but it was still nice to get away, completely forget about the plays she needed to act in, the incessant busy schedule of Ingrid, the coming and going of Marianne and her long hours at the hospital, the bustling streets of a city she loved yet she needed to rest from every now and then.

“Love, should I put your clothes in the drawer?” Ingrid had opened her suitcase and was looking at the clothes Dorothea had put in her suitcase. It was common for them to share their luggage, or mostly for Dorothea to use all the space Ingrid wouldn’t use in her suitcase.

After all, Ingrid could pack just a limited number of flannel shirts before deciding she was ready.

“Thank you, dear,” Ingrid was always attentive and solicitous to her, she would try to anticipate what she needed and offer it to her instead. Like a knight in shiny armor, Ingrid never stopped looking after her. Even now, as she moved their luggage and talked about the little things that composed their everyday lives, Ingrid was looking after her.

Even when something was worrying her enough for her usual scent to be tainted by concern.

Dorothea covered the distance that separated them and let her chin rest in her shoulder, her hands loosely wrapped in her waist.

“You smell… distressed,” Dorothea said, speaking softly as she felt how Ingrid tensed in her arms.

“I guess I can’t hide it, uh? I have never been the best actor either…” She closed the drawer she had opened and caught Dorothea’s hands in hers, anchoring her in that hug and taking comfort in her warmth and presence.

“No, dear, you aren’t.”

“Figured that much,” Ingrid chuckled, feeling how her heart was beating faster and her hands were trembling.

She hadn’t talked about it with Dorothea, yet she knew she couldn’t keep secrets from her. She wasn’t a good liar and it was hard enough trying to lie to somebody that could smell if she felt nervous or if she was worried. In a sense it was better, right? Ingrid had never been the best with words, being with Dorothea meant that she didn’t need to be, Dorothea could fill in the gaps and understand her without further coaxing, without the need of words or sentences that were complicated to pronounce, of things that were hurtful to speak about.

Yet…

Yet there were things they needed to say, no matter how much blanks they could fill, the bottom line still needed them to talk and Ingrid wasn’t opposed to the idea.

Just uncomfortable with it.

“Is ok if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m here for you for whatever you may need,” Dorothea said, her own heart beating at a lower rate, her hands strong, her presence a respite of peace when her tormented memories were to remind her she would never be free of them.

Ingrid smiled and leaned into her, nodding in understanding.

She wanted to talk about it.

She was scared to talk about it.

She was blowing it out of proportion, wasn’t she?

Wasn’t she?

What if she wasn’t?

What if Dorothea was to see the flaws in her once more?

Ingrid closed her eyes and tried to silence that voice. They had gone through the worst things. Ingrid had broken the law and fought an army of supernatural beasts to get Dorothea back. They were going to be fine.

She just needed to say it.

She just needed to say it.

Why couldn’t just she say it?

Instead, she turned in Dorothea’s arms and hugged her, burying her face in the crook of her neck and wishing she could spend the rest of her days there, secure and accompanied.

Loved and cared for.

“Just let’s make sure the balcony keeps closed…” She murmured, smiling when Dorothea chuckled and caressed her back.

“Deal, this time I would jump behind you and Hilda would never stop laughing at us,” Dorothea kept her close, despite how light her tone was and how she could feel Ingrid laughed softly in her arms, she could still sense Ingrid’s tense shoulders and the trembling in her hands that hadn’t faded away.

If she wasn’t to talk about it, Dorothea couldn’t help her.

Even if that was the very thing she wanted the most.

She couldn’t help her.

Dorothea kept her close, dancing to a waltz nobody else but them could listen to.

She didn’t need to hear whatever Ingrid kept in her chest. They had time and Dorothea patience. She was there, she would be there for her.

She would wait for Ingrid as long as it was needed.

She loved her.

She loved her and that was hard to come by.

In her childhood house, surrounded by her family and the mountains she had seen so many times already, Dorothea kissed her blond hair and the crown of her hair.

She loved her.

And she wouldn’t let her to be hurt alone, even if Ingrid was the one hurting herself.

When the morning came and the day of Saint Cichol was there, Dorothea would still hug her close and would be her silent support against whoever demons Ingrid was fighting.

Oh.

And she would surprise everybody with the best gifts so she was to win the competition as well.

Nothing was too big or ambitious for Dorothea Arnault.

* * *

Yes, Hilda knew, it was a hideous suit. She didn’t need for her parents to laugh at her, for Holst blinking several times and rubbing his eyes to realize he wasn’t dreaming, for Dorothea to roll her eyes and for Ingrid to try to smile and fail miserably at it to know it.

She had an exquisite taste and eyes to see it herself.

She, however, was willing to put up with it because this year she was going to win once more.

Dressed as Saint Cichol, or whatever people believed Saint Cichol looked like, Hilda would stay in character all day, delivering gifts as she saw fit, all the little yet delicate presents well stored in the inner pockets of her big, _really big_ , jacket or the sack that she had also taken from Claude’s.

Hilda knew how she looked, she knew how ridiculous she could seem in those clothes.

She knew she was bound to win as well.

Marianne was the only one that didn’t seem utterly surprised at seeing her, both because she had seen the suit when Hilda had put it in her suitcase and because she had seen Hilda get into the green jacket and pants as well as train in front of the mirror her characterization of a saint that was bound to be dead for a couple of millenia already.

“I wonder why Claude has these kinds of things…” Marianne had said, still bundled up in bed.

“Oh, I just don’t question old Claude anymore and just borrow whatever I need,” Hilda had twirled on herself once more to see how the suit didn’t favor her from any angle. “I’m ready, Dorothea and Holst don’t have a single opportunity this year!”

“Yes, dear, you look just like the saint from the fables…”

“Is that disbelief I hear?” Hilda turned, an eyebrow cocked, trying her best to give Marianne an earnest look and failing. Her girlfriend looked at her with the widest of smiles, knowing what was to come and wishing for it.

“Oh, goddess, no, I would never dream of…” Marianne had sitten in bed, looking innocent and pure. Hilda had noticed she didn’t need to do anything special to look like that.

“Are you sure? Don’t you think I can make a fine job of this role?” Hilda had walked up to her, her hands in her hips still playing her part.

“Of course!”

“I don’t see you so convinced…”

“Oh, no, no, you know I have blind faith in you, dear!” And Marianne had giggled when Hilda frowned at her, barely keeping a straight face. Hilda kissed her, pushing her softly back to bed, enjoying the warmth of her body that lingered in her skin. Part of her mind next to Marianne, wishing to be wrapped in the sheets with her. They both had giggled, Hilda nuzzling her neck and kissing her cheeks and forehead.

“Of course you do! You are my mate after all!” Hilda had kissed her gently once more before winking and straightening up. “And I have the perfect gift for you, but we need to wait for the perfect moment!”

“Is that so?” Marianne had raised both of her eyebrows, sitting up again and hugging her knees.

“Of course! The occasion is just as important as the gift!” That was absolutely right. Hilda would stand by her words. That was the reason she had left her girlfriend in their shared bed with a wink and no gift.

That was the reason she had roamed the house since early in the morning waiting for all inhabitants to wake up and join the festivities.

That was the reason she was carrying around boxes and gifts instead of simply sharing them with her loved ones.

That was the reason why she wasn’t with her girlfriend despite finally having time for themselves given how busy Marianne’s schedule could be.

“Little sis, this is ridiculous…” Holst said, but his smile was big enough to brighten the whole Leicester Alliance. Hilda winked at him and offered him a small box from one of her many pockets.

“I shall not listen to foul words, as this is a day of unity and family, we’re here to celebrate our bonds together and I have chosen to do so through this humble gift I hope you accept,” Hilda waited for him to take the box, she had half a mind of bowing but thought it would be taking it a bit _too_ extreme. Nobody really knew if Saint Cichol was _that_ polite and formal, she could go with the big words act but bowing was just outside of her list of things she was willing to do to win.

“You know I will give you my gift at dinner, like everybody else, right?” Holst tried to keep a straight face, yet he was already chuckling when he took the box and opened it. He expected a beautiful ornament made by Hilda, something unique and so tailored to him that there was no way in heaven or earth for it to not please him.

To be honest, however, he had been pleased even when his little sister had given him a dirt tart calling it dessert when she was four.

He was right, of course. Inside the box, stored with great care there was a bracelet that shone with the family colors. Beautiful and yet imposing, it had all the little hints their family used to declare their status to other supernatural beings without being too obvious for simple mortals.

It was a formality more than anything at this point, the old days behind them and wolves simply living with humans and respecting the most prominent laws, yet it was beautiful.

It was beautiful and it spoke to him at a primal level in his soul and heart.

Holst put it on and swallowed a tear when the bracelet fit perfectly in his wrist.

“How did you know what my wrist size was?” He asked, his voice a pitch higher than usual. Hilda smiled as she knew she had won his vote for the year already.

“I shall never fail or be wrong when it comes to the ones I love!” She proclaimed, not saying that he had very much crashed their place enough time for her to take all kinds of measurements while he slept. She could craft necklaces, bracelets for his ankles or even an armband by just looking at her notes now.

“Ha, very well, go on and spread love and unity now, Saint Cichol, I won’t stop you!” Holst shook his head, waving a dramatic goodbye to her as she walked away from the maze back to their house. Hilda had followed Holst as he went to the center of their yard to watch the mountains that were the heart of their territory, something he did almost every morning he could.

It was a special moment in his routine, the perfect moment to give him a gift and remind him that his sister loved him.

And that she gave the best gifts.

Now back once more to find her parents and her friends, she needed to snatch away the right moment to make sure they would forever remember it.

Marianne…

Hilda stopped and looked at the room where her girlfriend would still be snoozing.

For Marianne, she would have the biggest surprise prepared. The one that was a commitment and a promise she wouldn’t want anybody else but her to see.

Something inside her stirred, demanding her to go back to her side, to look after her and to kiss her, mumbling how important the woman was in her life.

How important her presence was in her life.

How she didn’t want to let go of her ever again.

That was, maybe, one of the few times Hilda didn’t frown upon her instincts yelling at her. She was, however, more than her instincts, wasn’t she? She had a plan. She had a plan and if she stuck with it she knew she would win the prize at the end.

And she better won something if she was wearing that hideous thing for the rest of the day, the sack, the jacket and the stupid cloak were starting to get in her way.

Her strides were quick to take her back to the kitchen where her mother and Ingrid were putting away the rest of a quick breakfast the two of them had shared. That was hardly the best moment to give them their gifts, yet she couldn’t break character, could she now? Hilda composed the best of her smiles and walked up to them to shower them in some non-sense of grandiloquent words.

Ingrid, however, cut her words short, turning around with a look Hilda didn’t quite like in her face.

“Hilda, could you go look over Mari? She didn’t want breakfast and I worry, she isn’t one to miss meals,” Ingrid said, a dishcloth in her hands as she dried some dishes. Hilda stopped and blinked.

She almost broke character.

Almost.

She didn’t have it in her to talk, however, for she didn’t trust her voice. Instead she nodded and left the kitchen in strides that were closer to running than walking, taking the staircase in two steps.

Marianne was fine, she had seen her before leaving their room.

She was fine, Hilda had slept next to her all night, basking in her scent and her warmth.

She had to be fine.

She had to.

Marianne was everything she could think of.

Hilda almost clashed against Dorothea as her friend was making her way down the stairs.

“Hilda, Mari isn’t feeling well and… wait, Hilda!” Wait, wait for what? There wasn’t time to be wasted waiting, Marianne wasn’t feeling well and Hilda hadn’t been able to see it before, she had bid her farewell trusting her girlfriend was safe and well in their bed.

She had gotten outside sure that she had left her loved one in a safe place, secured and comfortable, a place Marianne wouldn’t need anything.

When she ramped the door open, her fangs were longer and her fingers twitched, her muscles seizing as her blood boiled inside her.

“Hilda?!” Marianne sat down and her wince didn’t go unnoticed to Hilda. She tried to smile for her and Hilda could only feel guilt.

Hilda didn’t need Marianne to say a word, she didn’t need for her to turn around and explain what was happening, what she was feeling. Hilda just needed to enter the room and her senses rendered the truth bare in front of her.

No, she didn’t need for Marianne to explain a single thing, yet she allowed her the time to do so, curling next to her and nuzzling her neck trying to comfort her. Marianne trembled in her arms but smiled still.

“Are they that bad?” Hilda asked, still in her ridiculous green outfit, padding in her arms as if she needed the extra help to build muscle there, the rob and the cloak somewhat tangled between them. Marianne muffled a cry and buried her face in Hilda’s neck, trying not to think about how ridiculous the whole situation was.

“They are, I usually have my medicine with me but I took the last one yesterday’s night… I thought that I was going to be able to brave it but…” Hilda held her closer, the room was filled with Marianne’s sweet smell stained by pain, shame, fear…

It was stained by blood.

It awoke something primeval and raw in her, something that howled and called for her to raise and care for her partner, that demanded her to heal her mate no matter the cost.

Hilda bit her lower lip and shook her head.

Marianne should never keep something like that to herself, they were to share the burdens life was to throw at them.

What was worse, she should have known.

She should have known.

Hilda was there, in the same room when Marianne started to feel unwell and she hadn't picked in a single thing.

How spiteful.

“It’s ok, Mari, I’ll get something for you. Just let me know what it is and I’ll get it,” Hilda brushed her fingers lightly on Marianne’s forehead, it was sticky with sweat and slightly feverish.

“I wouldn't want to bother you…”

“It isn’t a bother! I just want you to feel better, I want for you to be happy and have a good time!” Marianne turned in her arms to look at her, at the werewolf that was in that ridiculous green suit that was just too big for her and yet had extra stuffing to compensate for muscles Hilda already had. Marianne saw Hilda’s worried eyes, she saw in them the same primitive call that Hilda could feel howling in her veins and smiled to avoid wincing.

Good and bad, pain and happiness, joy and grief they were to share.

“Ok… can you please get me my purse?” She asked, she didn’t need to say more, Hilda would’ve brought her Derdriu back if she had asked for it.

To hell with her character.

* * *

It turned out, Hilda wasn’t more than her instincts yelling at her.

Upon hearing the news, Ingrid had walked outside with her keys in hand and her phone turning on her GPS to the closest pharmacy.

It didn’t help that their idyllic house was miles away from any town or city.

Neither it did that Hilda was three seconds away from turning into a wolf and just set off running.

Ingrid didn’t know how many times she had to remind the wolves that a car was, in fact, faster.

Somehow, they had managed to get in the car and start driving without anybody running around as a wolf with a green cloak still tied to their neck. Somehow.

They weren’t proving to be of help, however.

“Are you insane?! I can’t run a red light!” Ingrid clenched the steering wheel to avoid punching it to highlight the insanity of the request. Hilda, in the backseat, leaned forward pointing at the streetlight they were waiting for.

“Not with that attitude. This village is so small that nobody cares, not even the police!” Hilda was grabbing the seats strong enough as to tear them apart, the only thing that was keeping her from doing so was that it was Ingrid’s car.

Ingrid wouldn’t be happy if she were to do that.

“The drugstore is right next to the police station!” Ingrid pointed at the GPS in her phone, plucked to the car’s dashboard.

“Oh, Ingrid, dear, it’s ok, they’ll be more worried about Hilda’s hideous suit still,” Dorothea, in the passenger seat, didn’t seem impressed at either of them.

“Just let me drive already!” The light changed and Ingrid pressed the gas pedal to the floor, yanking Hilda back in one swift movement. “We’re almost there, if they stop us it will take longer to get Mari her medicine.”

Hilda opened her mouth to retort but closed it with no comeback.

Ingrid was right.

She should’ve run all the way to the village instead of taking the car.

“Are you sure this is open? It’s a holiday after all,” Dorothea turned to see Hilda, her eyes had the worry she didn’t show in her voice.

“They better, it’s the only drug store in the village and it’s managed by a family that lives in the building. They should be in town already eating nougat or something. I will just throw my money at them, I don’t care,” Hilda was biting her lower lip and clenching her forearms with her arms crossed. If Marianne was there she would have laughed and calmed her down with a warm hand in her shoulder and a soft word to keep her in line.

If Marianne was there.

But Marianne wasn’t there.

Hilda had been to blind to see it.

She bit her lip a bit more forceful, Dorothea pointed at her fang that was by no means a human tooth at that point. Hilda shrugged.

She had been blind to see it.

“We’re almost here, but I don’t see anywhere to park…” Ingrid reduced the speed, the narrow street of the old village barely passable with cars parked at one side of the street. “Maybe you can… nevermind.” The door closed with a loud thud as Hilda got out of the car still moving. Ingrid sighed and rubbed her face but kept the same speed, ready to go around the block to pick Hilda up after she bought the medicine.

“I would’ve stopped if she told me she was doing that…'' She mumbled, looking into the rear mirror to make sure she wasn’t causing traffic.

“You know Hilda, dear, lovely, dignified, absolutely in love with Marianne,” Dorothea turned once more to see the green cloak disappear into the pharmacy. “She worries and I can understand, one of the perks of being a supernatural being that lives in packs, no way to turn that instinct off.”

“I honestly sometimes forget about the whole pack-clan thing…” Another light and it was a good thing Hilda had already jumped off the car.

“Not everybody is as wonderful as you are.”

“You mean simple-minded?” Ingrid joked, taking Dorothea's hand in her right before changing gears and starting the car again, her girlfriend snorted but she kept her hand on hers even after Ingrid had let go of her, running circles in the back of her hand with her thumb.

"You know exactly what I mean..." Dorothea didn't add that Ingrid would even drive with only one hand in the steering wheel when it came to her and displays of affection. In her own different way, Ingrid was what Dorothea needed.

She wished she could let her know just how much that was true.

"Your mother is nice, she said the same thing about me eating like a werewolf… I suppose I do have a healthy appetite.” Ingrid took a second corner and she knew she was running out of time for being alone with Dorothea.

She also knew that the rumbling she felt in her belly was her own guilt eating her alive instead of something she had eaten at breakfast. Ingrid knew that, despite that the assortment of dishes she had eaten for breakfast was a long one, it wasn't food what was upsetting.

Rather her own memories that decided that holidays were the perfect moment to haunt her.

Classic.

"Erica is delighted with both of you... Once she was over the initial shock of both of her daughters liking women she has been really supportive of us," Dorothea chuckled at the memory, but didn't linger on it. It had been an interesting summer day when the family had decided to visit the beach and she and Hilda had made very telling comments regarding some of the women at the beach.

That day Dorothea had meant the comment just for Hilda. Too bad that their supernatural parents had a sharp ear, sharp enough to hear them complimenting the women and their swimsuits.

"I'm glad, you deserve a loving family."

"So do you, Ingrid," Dorothea looked at her girlfriend, sensing both with her honed perception and her sharp senses that something was wrong and Ingrid was trying to say it. Somehow she was trying to say it. "And you know that my family is yours as well, right?"

"I know I… I wish I could offer something like that too..."

"Ingrid, we talked about this before."

"That doesn't change the fact," They took the fourth corner and the pharmacy was in sight now. "I don't have a family, just you and Marianne and I don't need anything else but, at the same time, I wish I could offer you more..."

"Ingrid..."

She couldn’t hold it any longer.

"When I was younger I had a betrothed, Glenn," she started, unsure of what she was doing. Ingrid was driving, yes, that much was clear.

She was driving her girlfriend to their friend so they could take medicine to her lifelong friend to relieve her pain. That was hardly the time to talk about those kinds of things. 

But then, what was the right moment to talk about things?

Dorothea blinked a couple of times, completely taken away by the simple revelation. Ingrid had never said anything about it. Granted, she had been very reserved when it came down to her life in Faerghus, barely talking about the things she used to do or the friends she still kept from those years.

Ingrid had never talked about Glenn.

Dorothea, however, realized that she needed to give Ingrid a safe, secure space for her to continue talking to her. She grabbed her hand, still in the gear stick, and squeezed lightly. Ingrid could tell Dorothea anything she wanted, anything.

Their relationship wasn't something that should be measured in secrets shared or favors done, but in the simple and yet crucial knowledge that they had each other.

No matter what, they had each other.

"Glenn was killed when I was fourteen, it was a nasty business, he died alongside Dimitri's father and other people… it wasn't an accident," she continued, looking at Hilda, green and pink and a pout in her face that told them she hadn't found what she hoped to find.

"Ingrid, we can talk about this later, if you want to."

"I know, but I think I need to come clean to both of you." Ingrid took her phone and changed their destination, looking for the next drugstore closest to their location. Hilda didn't wait for Ingrid to stop the car, she flew the door open and hopped inside in a gesture that Ingrid hoped wasn't starting to be a habit for her.

"They didn't have it. They didn't have anything useful! When I asked for something similar as to what Mari asked they said there wasn't anything potent enough to knock a horse in their store!" She hissed, fastening her seat-belt as she spoke. "I guess we could go to Ordelia which is a city that's big enough to..."

"On it," Ingrid interrupted, pointing at the GPS on her phone and changing gears to leave the village and speed to the next city.

Marianne never complained but her cramps were bad enough for her to remain at home a day or two. It wasn't fun and it wasn't fair, but it was what they had.

It was what they had.

And Ingrid had two wolves to whom she had sworn herself to come clean and now she had at least half an hour in a car to do so.

Ingrid was driving, that used to calm her, it gave her mind respite and solace, focusing on a single task she could do without thinking, allowing her runaway thoughts to find direction and north in a mind that used to be a storm rather than a meadow. Dorothea's intense green eyes were on her, waiting, encouraging her.

"You both remember the Duscur tragedy?"

Both wolves exchanged a worried look, Hilda's changing from eagerness to concern in a second.

"Years ago, yes. It was in the news for days," Hilda supplied, leaning forward fumbling with her green jacket. "In Faerghus… don't you mean..." She didn't need to finish that sentence, Ingrid was already nodding, her hands steel in the steering wheel as they left the village behind them and took the fastest route to Ordelia.

"I lost people to that incident." The engine of the car was, usually, silent, Ingrid made sure it was always in peak condition. Tinkering with it was both a hobby and part of what she considered her obligations.

Now, the silence in the car was only filled by that low, subtle purring of a machine that could take them many many miles non-stopping.

The GPS blinked softly, telling her that the next exit was theirs and they were to drive for another ten or fifteen minutes before reaching Ordelia.

"I was really nervous about coming, I didn't realize why or how much," Ingrid found that there was a knot in her throat and talking about things from a different angle could help her work around it. "Not only because the balconies," she laughed humorlessly, well-aware of how that had been a running joke for all of them, "but because… your family, they are werewolves, just like you."

The silence that followed was heavy, intoxicating, intolerable.

"Just like you, but they weren't you. I guess I'm still nervous and scared about the whole Dorothea's shitty father thing."

"Ingrid..." Hilda looked at the driver, whose eyes were fixed on the road, she could smell guilt and concern and she could hear her heart hammering in her chest. Dorothea was bound to pick up on all of those cues and act on them as well. "That's ok, Dorothea's father was a disaster, you saw it yourself..."

"He was, but your parents are not. Your mother invited me to come again, telling me how summer is just lovely and talking about all the things we could do in the mountains nearby."

"Ingrid…" Dorothea wanted to reach out to her, engulf her in her arms and told her that it was fine, that the world wouldn't get to them, that there wasn't a thing that could so easily tear them apart.

But she couldn't.

There was wind in the sails of Ingrid's words.

She couldn't stop that, she wouldn't stop that.

In a way, Dorothea was again watching a leap of faith from Ingrid and that in itself was beautiful and frightening.

"My father arranged my marriage with Glenn. He was good and I thought I loved him. I can't say if I did or not, I was a kid… But I thought I did."

Another soft curve and they were facing west, into the city that was now visible in the horizon.

"He was Felix's brother. Dimitri's father died in the tragedy as well and… those were dark days." How could she explain the blackness that followed? The hollowness, the emptiness? How could she speak about those days where night and day were mixed and time lost its meaning and her own feelings were ships that sunk in the middle of a storm she couldn't weather?

How could she explain that she feared some part of her had been lost those days, never to return?

Maybe she couldn't.

Maybe she wouldn't.

Ingrid swallowed and tried once more. "I emerged out of those days hurt and full of hatred, I didn't realize, but I hated that day, I hated those words, I hated everybody that moved on. I..."

How could she bring herself to accept her own flaws so plainly?

"I hated the people of Duscur that had done such horrible things...” They had hurt her, they had taken what was precious to her and destroyed it, layer by layer, completely disintegrating it until there was nothing left.

Until her memories of Glenn were but a blurry image in her mind that she couldn't trust any more.

"I hated them, but who was them? I didn't care…"

They were entering the city now, more cars and traffic, Ingrid drove with expertise, never taking a wrong turn or changing gears at the wrong moment. Never failing to guide the machine with a perfectly steady hand toward their destination.

Her voice, however, clenched her throat and hurt her once more as she kept talking about what she felt so embarrassed for.

"Your parents are so kind, they are not the idea I had about werewolves and that I didn't realize I had made in my head. Dimitri has a friend, Dedue, a kind man from Duscur… the first time I saw him I hated him. He was them, he was part of them.

"He wasn't part of us and that was enough for me, for that part of me I didn't acknowledge and yet fed nonetheless…

"It grew in me slowly but surely, it kept growing each time I heard him, each time I saw Dimitri, Felix, Sylvain and him. It gained force each time he smiled or did something good and admirable.

"He didn't deserve my admiration, did he? That's what I thought at least and then...

"And then, I told Dedue to go back, I told him to leave Faerghus and go back to _his_ people, as if anything that had happened was his fault or anybody's fault but the ones that did it. I was hurt and I was ignorant. I was hurt and I was alone... " what else she could say? There wasn't a proper explanation other than she had been wrong and ignorant. "It was a shit show, it was Dimitri's house after all, so Felix knocked me out and with Sylvain they waited that I regained consciousness."

"They... knock you out?" Dorothea blinked once more and turned to face her completely, both eyebrows raised. Ingrid stopped at a traffic light and didn't look away from it.

"I don't think Felix intended to hit me that hard, but again I wasn't being the most reasonable person to talk to… when I come back to my senses I wasn't alone, Sylvain, Felix and Dedue were there..."

A couple of seconds went by, the light traffic turned back to green, Ingrid drove and kept her eyes on the road ahead.

"He was very understanding and kind, more so that I deserved. He told me I wasn't the first person to tell him so and that he didn't blame me for my ignorance or my grief. He asked me who Glenn was, he asked me what did Glenn like and how could he help me feel better."

"Ingrid..." Hilda was at a loss for words. She knew her friend needed her and, at the same time, didn't know what to say. Ingrid was part of her clan, her pack, as such she would defend her with her life if it came to it.

Accepting her flaws and learning that she, as a person, had grown, wasn't going to change that.

"Hilda, we're here. I can park right over there and wait for you..." That snapped her back to reality. Marianne needed her. Her whole pack needed her. Hilda unfastened her seat-belt and made her mind quickly.

She was to be there for them, to be a support, a spring of strength and a haven.

Hilda would show them that it was ok to be weak as they needed to rest to be strong.

"Oh, right, I'll be back in a second," she said, as she got out of the car quickly.

Ingrid looked at her go in the rear mirror, before maneuvering quickly to park next to the pharmacy. She killed the engine and clenched her fists for a second.

"What… what did you say? To Dedue?" Dorothea's voice was soft, inviting, comfortable.

Healing.

"I was so embarrassed… I didn't even know my animosity was that strong, I had lied to myself and preferred to look away from it." Ingrid let her elbows rest on the steering wheel. She wasn't driving anymore, her eyes were set on the road nonetheless. "I let it consume me instead of face it and when the time came, I let it out… I apologized to Dedue and worked actively to educate myself, to stop those thoughts and those attitudes I hadn't realized I had yet..."

"Are you still afraid?" Dorothea clenched her fists for a second before letting go and, gently, looking for Ingrid's hand to take. Ingrid let her, intertwining their fingers without looking away.

"Every second."

"You aren't the same person you were because you worry and work not to be."

"Dorothea, it still lives in me, I still feel uneasy and wary of what's different from me, when I think about it, when I'm faced to it..." She couldn't continue because her voice broke. Dorothea tugged her hand and smiled at her.

Just for her.

"Ingrid, your girlfriend is a werewolf."

"I knew you as Dorothea, you are Dorothea to me, but your parents? I was uneasy and worried I wouldn't be proper or polite to them I..."

"You aren't anything like that, not anymore, you left it behind."

"Doro... "

"Would it help if I tell you that I will knock you out if I ever hear you saying something hurtful?"

"Yes," Ingrid chuckled, she discovered that there were tears in her cheeks and cleaned them dry with the heel of her hand, "yes it would. Mari said that she could ask Hilda to do so..."

"Oh, no, you're my girlfriend, I can take care of things."

"Thank you, Love..."

"For you? Anytime"

* * *

The mountains near the Goneril state were beautiful no matter summer or winter. Even in the pitch black of the night, as they bundled up in blankets and kept close to be warm and content, the starry night as their sky and canopy was inviting of old memories and new feelings.

Dorothea looked at them and remembered how she kissed Ingrid for the first time under a starry night.

They were sitting on top of the car, on the roof while Marianne and Hilda kept the hood for them. Hilda had, finally, got rid of that ridiculous green suit and accepted her defeat after Marianne told her how Holst looked after her, bringing her chamomile tea and making sure her room was at the right temperature. He had arranged more blankets for her and made sure she had enough pillows to feel comfortable.

After that, he had given them both chocolate and a quilt that was just beautiful.

He had taken the title this year and she could just feel gratitude.

Their parents had insisted they were to bid goodbye to Saint Cichol’s day in the mountains, in one of the best overlooks to both watch the stars and the valley where the house had been built. Ingrid was warm and comfortable and close, next to her, in her arms. She smiled at her, the blue of the new flannel shirt she had given her a gorgeous compliment to her eyes.

Dorothea just could smile back.

So many things to say.

And yet they had time.

They were there, they had time.

Ingrid, in her arms, wouldn’t leave anywhere. Ingrid who tried and failed and tried again.

How could she not love her when that was the very nature of their love?

“Are you feeling better?” Hilda had Marianne in her lap and had made sure to bring pillows, blankets and her medicine if she ever needed it. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see it before...”

“I should’ve told you, I thought you’d realize but…” Marianne rearranged the blanket so it covered her ankles. It was usually the other way around, Hilda would always seek her for warmth and comfort.

A change of pace was nice, however.

“No, no, it’s ok. We should’ve communicated better. I’m sorry I got too carried away by a stupid competition…” Marianne had given her a scarf so big and comfortable that she could wrap it around her shoulders and neck several times and disappear into it, she was using it that moment to wrap them both. “I can’t believe I put on that stupid suit and tried to be a Saint for a day...”

“To be honest, darling, you always look out of this world to me,” Marianne whispered, and she rather felt than saw Hilda’s blush.

“Mari!” Marianne laughed, Ingrid and Dorothea looking at them curiously, their matching bracelets, discrete and yet intricate, bands of silver and gold, were hidden by the night and their blankets. Hilda had, as usual, outdone herself and every member of the family had received a tailored piece not even the kings and queens of old times would dream of.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Marianne said, not feeling sorry at all. She smiled and kissed her cheek, joining their foreheads and staying there, wishing there was no other place in the world she could be. “Did you like your present?”

“These have been the best holidays in years,” and Hilda meant it. With her family, with her friends, with her lover.

There wasn’t anything else she could ask for.

Her present for Marianne, still in her pocket, was warm and burning.

But that wasn’t the right moment, not yet at least.

Dorothea smiled, having overheard their conversation and wholeheartedly agreeing.

She had Ingrid, her friends and the starry night on top of them as their own canvas, their own palace from which stand up and face the world as they saw fit.

And a bottle of expensive, high quality red wine Ingrid had given her in the car, as well as her gift to Hilda, wine that would only get better as it aged.

Maybe she would save it for a different time.

Maybe for when they were the two of them alone.

But now.

Now?

But now there was no place else in the world she’d like to be.

For they had tried and they had built in them a home nobody else could take.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays!
> 
> Ok, I really started writing this as a holiday fic and SOMETHING happened in the middle... I have no excuses but I must say I missed this universe and these characters.
> 
> I hope you all have great holidays, that you can rest. be with your loved ones and eat the food you want!
> 
> If you liked my work and are interested in seeing more queer non-sense stuff, you can follow me in [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/KuroKR_)


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